


The candle at both ends

by minutemarch



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Caretaker James, Drunk Kissing, Hangover!Niki, James is too sober for this, Long suffering James, M/M, Mostly sober!James, Smug!Niki, What happens in Monaco, drunk!Niki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-29 16:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutemarch/pseuds/minutemarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monaco 1976 and there's an after party to end all after parties.  James is the one with the reputation but Niki is the one with the excellent reason to get utterly hammered.</p><p>So he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is any more but there is drunk kissing as promised!
> 
> And surprise seriousness.

Niki Lauda did not have a reputation for drinking. 

James supposed it was because he always turned up to work sober, free of hangover and any kind of five o’clock shadow. He supposed it was because Niki didn’t seem the type. Because he was quiet at _those_ kinds of parties. Because he didn’t draw attention to himself when he wasn’t flashing about in his leary red car. Of course Niki drank, of course he let go, but he was a master at picking his moment. Niki Lauda drank _after_ the race.

As James found out, much to his surprise and delight, on occasion Niki Lauda drank _like a fish_ after a race and never so much as after Monaco, 1976.

On a high from the masterful way he was romping through the competition and the fact, in his alcohol fueled bravado, found little reason to believe anyone could claw back his massive lead, Niki was in exceptionally good spirits. 

And most of those spirits were top shelf.

James couldn’t really say the same, when it came to his championship chances, or his non-result in the race, but the party was going off and so his own mood was lifted somewhat. There was, after all, no party like a Monaco party.

For a time James had little awareness, or interest, in what Niki Lauda was doing. He had the undivided attention of a charming little cluster of svelte young ladies with endearing accents and permanent smiles. He was turning on the full charm, sharing carefully chosen stories with carefully chosen words. They were suitably engaged and impressed. Unlike the race, the evening was going perfectly. 

In fact James had been about to invite said ladies up to ‘see the penthouse’ when a certain slightly-built Austrian came weaving into view. James had largely forgotten Niki was even at the party, figuring he’d gone home early to think about exhaust pipes or stroke his car. It was not, by any means, the first time James had seen Niki three sheets to the wind but it was the first time in that year. He was vaguely annoyed at Niki’s timing as now the ladies were busy congratulating the actual winner of the race and he was busy grinning at them like he’d just worked out the secret to cold fusion and couldn’t wait to tell the Nobel Prize committee (being them).

He was somewhat less surprised by Niki’s state. The little rat could pack it away when he was in the mood. James knew, though, he couldn’t hold his liquor anywhere near as well as he could himself. “You’re such a cheap drunk, Niki,” James said loudly, drawing the attention of the ladies back to him. “You really need to slow down before you hurt yourself.” In his public school accent it sounded all the world like a scene from a stagey television drama. In a way it was. Both James and Niki were on show but only one of them was fully aware of the fact.

“Jameshunt,” he slurred out. “Youlost therace.” Then he snorted as if it was the funniest thing he’d heard in a long time. “Iwonthe race. In my car. You know my car is the best car. If you had the best car youwould win the race.” He wobbled a bit as he pointed with great determination to the empty air to James’ left.

James realised Niki was really messing up his flow with the girls who had now backed off to watch the exchange. An exchange that wasn’t painting James in an especially alluring light.

“I think you’ve had enough Niki,” he said, as much for the little audience he still had as to Niki. “Maybe you could have a little rest. There’s a sofa with your name on it over there.” He pointed to a fat red couch with a slightly-worse-for-wear looking John Watson on it. 

“Don’t need arest. I… gewann das rennen. In meinem auto. Mein auto ist das beste auto,” Niki pressed on, giving up on English but even James could follow the gist of what he was saying. The girls too, though their expressions became more worried as the Austrian descended into his native tongue. It was about then James realised he was no longer the centre of their concern and, if he pushed his friend to one side, they’d decide him a heel and leave him to his own devices. He swore under his breath.

He had no choice but to play the white knight now.

“Come along. I’ll see you to your room,” James said. The Englishman wasn’t exactly unbuzzed himself but his faculties were, more or less, intact. He took Niki’s arm just above the elbow and earned approving coos from his entourage. Perhaps he could find the ladies again once Niki was settled.

“Nein! Ich will tanzen!” Niki said in irritation, flailing with his free hand. James turned him so they were facing each other, hoping to ensure his complete attention.

“In English, Niki,” he said firmly. “If you want me to understand.” Was he too far gone to manage it?

“I… wantto dance,” Niki said petulently. He then muttered something that sounded like _’my party_ ’ but James wasn’t sure. 

“I think you need to be able to walk for that,” James said calmly. “You can dance tomorrow. Come on.” James tugged on Niki’s arm and Niki tugged back. “You’ve partied thoroughly. Now it’s time for the after after party.”

“Nach der nach der party?” Then a moment later correcting himself, “After after party?”  
“Yes. It happens in your room.”  
“The girls come?”  
“Sometimes. Maybe not tonight,” James said, his voice softer. He doubted Niki would be awake long enough to do anything with the girls if they did come. He also had visions of other, less fun, ways shaking Niki up could end right now. He shook his head at the idea.  
“Who comes?” His English was getting very simple now as his concentration wavered.

“You’ll see,” James promised enigmatically and that quietened Niki for a minute. James threaded his way through the seething crowd, stumbling Niki in tow. James was grateful, at these times, his friend was so slight.

Finally emerging from the ballroom, spilled drinks from other peoples’ glasses creating a scent cloud around them, the sound level dropped considerably. Niki’s open-mouthed panting and occasion giggles were very obvious. 

As they put distance between themselves and the party James’ frustration began to fade and, instead, was replaced by the nostalgia for their early days when they were just a couple of kids sharing a flat and a few seedy nights, walking in very much this way, the one who was less blind-drunk leading the other. And it wasn’t always Niki.

“Where does the liftgo?” Niki asked as they waiting in the lobby. “Up or down?”

“Up. Tonight. Hopefully,” James said. He still held onto Niki’s arm as his friend wandered back and forth beside him, seemingly unable to stand still.

Niki wasn’t any one kind of drunk. He wasn’t as simple to define as “happy drunk” or “angry drunk.” He tended towards boastful drunk, restless drunk, laughing drunk and talkative drunk all at the same time. James would add “floppy drunk,” to the list as Niki quickly lost his balance when he’d had a few too many. He put it as ‘getting drunk from the knees up.’

After what seemed an age the lift car opened and James lead Niki inside. He hit the button for the penthouse. He didn’t know where Niki’s room was and he had more than enough space in his to stow his wayward friend. He told himself it was simply a matter of convenience and nothing to do with the fact he was worried.

“You’re too tall,” Niki said in an accusative tone beside him and it took James a moment to notice that he wasn’t being addressed but his reflection in the polished metal lining the lift car as if Niki couldn’t tell the difference.

“Your teeth are too big,” James countered and his reflection mimicked Niki’s overbite in cruel parody. 

“Betterto bite youwith,” Niki slurred back and James was reminded of the origin of the story Niki was trying to quote. He wondered how you said _that_ in German.

“You planning on biting me?” James’ reflection said back, crooked grin on his face. 

“Maybe your arse,” Niki returned, still addressing the lift car wall. James counted his blessings they were alone in there and determined not to attend to _that_ mental image..

At the bell and the opening of the door James lead Niki carefully over the threshold and along the private corridor to his ostentatious room. 

“Notmine,” Niki said as James pushed him through the door ahead of him.  
“Mine,” James explained and closed the door. Only then did he release his hold on Niki’s arm, where it was safe for him to stumble about. Which he did. 

James headed for the kitchenette to fix a couple of drinks, his ears focused on the sounds coming from behind him as he worked.

A bang. “Sheisse!” The sound of stumbling. Clearly a shin and a coffee table having an unexpected rendezvous. Nothing terminal. Niki would be alright in the spacious lounge. There were no windows in there. 

“You have a cat in here?” came the thickly accented drawl, rapidly followed by “Nevermind.” James was very sure he didn’t want to know.

He willed the kettle to boil faster so, of course, it didn’t. He sprinkled too much instant coffee into one of the mugs and two spoonfulls of sugar. He expected Niki to screw up his nose but he didn’t care. He needed a jolt.

As steam started to rise from the kettle James noticed it had gotten very quiet in the other room.

_Shit._

“Niki? You okay in there?”

No answer.

James left the kettle to do it’s thing and returned to the mail room. He couldn’t see Niki at first. He did a loop of the room and still came up empty. However there was an uneven banging sound coming from the bathroom. James changed tack and directed himself towards the sound. 

He stopped in the doorway because, if he was to be honest, he thought he needed a moment to process what he was seeing.

Niki was on all fours in the bathtub, forcett at the end running its cool stream. Niki’s head was turned to the side as he caught what water he could as it spilled past. It was… a moment where James truly wished he had his camera.  
“Um, Niki?”  
A muffled “Hmmm?”  
“What are you doing?”  
He pulled his head out of the water stream. “I wasthirsty.”  
“I… have glasses Niki.”  
There was a very long pause during which Niki turned his upper body around to face James. “Oh.” He said. A moment later he lost traction on the wet porcelain and fell into a crumpled, soggy, heap in the bottom of James Hunt’s five-star bathtub.

James cross the room and turned off the water (not actually hurrying at it. Hoping the cool water might revive Niki a bit).  
“Come on. Let’s get you out of those wet things.”

Niki batted at James’ hand. “Ich bin nicht einer der ihren- I’m not one of your girls!”  
“It’s not a line Niki. I’m not driving you to the hospital with pneumonia you got in my bathroom. I am not reading that headline.”  
Niki’s weak resistance faded in the face of reason and he allowed James to pull him up. It wasn’t that hard despite Niki being no help whatsoever. He didn’t weigh much soaking wet. For once James was glad his friend was… ratsized.

“Move your legs, that’s it. No, lock your knees. Stand. Up. Yes. Like that. Now through the door. That’s it. Over to the… no, no, the bed- and that’s a lamp.” Steering a drunk Niki around the room was very much like trying to push a cooked noodle through a wall but, eventually, Niki was perched on the end of the bed, feet on the floor, hands resting on the covers a long way from his body to brace himself.

James set to work dragging Niki’s sodden clothes off his body. Niki was helping by keeping kind of still and not smacking him on the head.

Down to his underwear Niki somehow didn’t look any less intense, even with his eyes wandering around the room vaguely. 

“When do the girls get here?”

“The girls went home.”

“Did I… were they-”

“You had a great time, Niki, now get under the covers.”

“I’m not one of your girls.”

“No Niki. On your side. Your side. Your other side. I’m not having you sicking up in my bed.” _Or down your own throat. Not reading that headline either._

“... Your hair is soft. Like a lobster or ein kleiner hund.”

“... Thank you Niki.”

“A small dog.”

“Yes Niki.” James pushed one of the 15 pillows provided up against Niki’s back to stop him rolling in his sleep and laid down on the other side of it, looking up at the ceiling. It had been a weird weekend. 

The reigning formula one world champion lay in bed beside him softly singing what James suspected was the Austrian national anthem to himself. In Italian.

“James.” A few minutes later.

“Yes Niki?”

“You smell like coffee.”

“Go to sleep, Niki.”

And even longer pause.

“Gute nacht, Jameshunt."

"Shunt."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one gets much sleep in Monaco after the GP and James Hunt less than anyone.

James Hunt woke to a weight on his chest. This wasn’t a singular event unless you considered who the weight belonged to.

He had no idea how long he’d been asleep but there was no sunlight streaming in around the curtains so he figured not long and, looking at the grinning face above him, he was sure not long enough. 

“Hello, Niki,” James asked wearily. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”  
“Shhhhhh,” said Niki, placing a finger across James’ lips. “I did.”  
 _Still drunk then._  
“I think you should sleep some more,’ James said, trying to maintain his authority from flat on his back.  
Niki only leaned forward, his face a mere inch from James, his breath could light a match.  
James held his own breath, not knowing what Niki was going to do next, not hoping. Not hoping at all that-  
“I’m worldchampion,” Niki slurred into James’ face and grinned brightly.  
“For now,” James nodded, his own eyes sparking. If Niki wanted to play that game James was more than up for it.  
“Foralways,” Niki countered, eyes clearly trying to focus on James but he was too close. 

James took hold of Niki’s shoulders and pushed him back a little. “Only if you get a good night’s sleep,” James pointed out sagely. Niki cocked his head and, after a long moment, nodded as if it took a great deal of concentration to do so.

James pushed him to a sitting position and wrangled him onto his side on edge of the bed, face pointed, once again, safely away from James and the middle of the bed. Just in case.

James closed his eyes and thought that was the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

~

“You taste like berries.”  
One eye opened.  
“How do you taste like berries?”

James looked to his left to see… Niki. Apparently getting rather friendly with one of the spare pillows.  
“You’ve been drinking,” he complained to the pillow. “James.”

James’ eyes went wide, his body had never been held so still. He stopped breathing, half afraid of drawing Niki’s attention.  
Just a little afraid he’d misheard. No. No he _wanted_ to mishear, he told himself.  
Niki was so out of it he’d mistaken a pillow for a living human. It meant nothing.  
Just as well it meant nothing.

James rolled towards his friend and tapped him on the shoulder. “At least buy it a drink first,” he said as Niki jerked properly awake. 

Niki turned on the bed, towards James, his expression confused, intent, trying hard to focus on the worried face before him. He’d seen Niki drunk before but not quite this far gone. Never saying things like… 

James pulled the pillow out his Niki’s hands. “You’re paying the hotel to clean this,” he told Niki before tossing his ‘girlfriend’, (boyfriend?) across the room to bounce harmlessly off the wall.

The utter lack of any sort of buzz left, his poor race result and, now, a distinct feeling of unease left James with a short wick. The fact he couldn’t really hold Niki accountable didn’t improve his mood.

He turned his head to check how his friend was coping without his ‘significant other’ to be confronted with the level gaze of Niki’s eyes again but now those eyes were more considered, his manner much calmer, even if he was sure they were also unfocused. 

The look that Niki was giving him was making him feel little tugs in places he didn’t want to be feeling little tugs. 

_He’s drunk. He has no idea what he’s doing._

_He thinks I’m a pillow._

“Go to sleep, Niki,” James said with far less heat and certainty than he was going for.

Niki didn’t close his eyes or turn away. James fully intended to.

He did.

Niki tasted like beer and whiskey and something cold and hard to define. Niki’s tongue was slick and soft and clumsy. Niki’s hand was firm yet strangely light on his chest as he used it for balance.

The rational part of James’ mind told him to call a stop to it. He was the one with the capacity to. Niki had started it, it was up to him to end it.

But Niki had closed his eyes and was sighing happily and James had never seen him so content and then it didn’t matter because his lips were numb and his teeth were banging against Niki’s teeth and the fingers in his hair were quickly switching off the rational side of his mind.

James rolled onto his back and pulled Niki with him.

Somehow Niki got his leg over James and settled above him. He seemed all the happier for that position. James heard him mumble something about being the world champion again. He happily smothered those smug words with his tongue. 

One hand stroked absently at Niki’s back, the other rested on his thigh as much to stop him falling off as anything, not trusting his drunken balance.

The kiss went on, unbroken, both of them drawing air through their noses, one considered, one uneven, both desperate not to break apart. They rocked together but James could feel Niki was too drunk to get hard. He couldn’t say the same about himself.

But slowly, as Niki heated up, James cooled down. 

He wasn’t kissing Niki and Niki wasn’t kissing him. In his mouth and his lap was Jack Daniels and Johnny Walker and they were all over him.

“Niki,” he said softly, his hand on Niki’s cheek, pulling him away a few inches. It was next to the very last thing he wanted to be doing.

Niki growled like an angry cat and tried to close the distance again but James’ hand held firm. Irritation focused Niki’s eyes on James. 

“You need to sleep,” James said. “Need to get okay for tomorrow… today. We have planes to catch.” He resisted the urge to stroke his thumb over Niki’s cheek while his hand was there.

Niki grunted again but didn’t move. Once again it was James laying him on the bed like a broken puppet, arranging his sprawling limbs and propping him into a safe position. It was back to mechanical. Back to tending to his drunk friend, with swollen lips and a need that would have to wait for his solo shower.

James didn’t close his eyes again until Niki was snoring.

~

James woke to the sound he expected to hear the first time he woke up. Even though it was self-inflicted he did feel some sympathy for Niki, his body was well and truly not done taking control away from him though in a much less pleasant way this time.

With a sigh James got out of bed and padded across the room, pulling on his shorts as he went. 

Niki was wrapped around the toilet bowl, hair sweat-plastered to his head, narrow body overtaken by merciless spasms that dropped him back to the floor when they were done with him, until the next time.

James crossed to the sink and ran a face washer under the cold tap. Niki coughed wetly, groaned with his head in his hand, elbow on the toilet seat. It was a position James knew well. 

He didn’t know what Niki remembered but he guessed he was about to find out. 

He pressed the cloth into Niki’s hand. Tired eyes swiveled upwards. Niki may have been going for grateful or intensely annoyed. He managed neither. His almost bubbly spirit of the night before was utterly deflated. 

“I was in your bed,” Niki said as he pressed the cloth to his own forehead, his voice roughened by the gravel in his throat.

“Nothing gets past you,” James retorted, gentle sarcasm his defence as he rested his bum against the edge of the sink.

“What- you… you took me away from the party.”

 _So he remembers something._  
“You were scaring the locals,” James shrugged with practiced casualness. Niki seemed to be trying to think very hard, work out what happened in his own mind. The required concentration seemed a test in current state, though, as he pressed the cloth tighter to his forehead. 

“There was a pillow behind me. You put it there,” he went on. 

James had to admire Niki’s determination not to give up trying to squeeze something out of his reluctant brain. “Well there were literally 15 pillows on that bed and your head’s only big enough for 14.” 

Niki thought about that for a moment before, very carefully, shaking his head. That proved to be bad idea and his stomach took control of his body again. 

James waited it out, had seen it too much around the place to be worried about it. His desire for breakfast remained unaffected. He didn’t know how long Niki had been in there but the toll was obvious. Niki was shaking by the time the spams released him this time.

James doubted the Austrian wanted any comfort from him, and he wasn’t in any actual danger unless he tried to get athletic, so James figured he might as well start getting ready for the day. He turned to head back into the bedroom when a strained voice stopped him.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Niki wasn’t looking at James, his head was resting on the toilet seat, still utterly dependant on proximity to it. He didn’t need to ask what Niki was talking about.  
“It’s alright,” James said over his shoulder. “I doubt anyone will believe me if I did.” James was holding his breath again. He was meant to be brushing it off and continuing on his way. It was meant to be over. There was nothing more to say about it. It was to be forgotten.

“Hmmm,” Niki said, in lieu of nodding. He’d accept James’ word and his point. Who’d believe it indeed? If he hadn’t been there himself...

James sighed and moved towards the door.

“Danke,” he thought he heard Niki say before his ability to speak was lost to him again. James wondered if Niki said it in German in the hope James may not understand it.

~

When Niki had ran out of things to throw up James peeled him off the floor and stood him in the shower, still in his underwear (things were quite awkward enough, thank you). He turned on the warm water and pressed a bar of soap into Niki’s hand with instructions to “have at it.” He left the room but hovered by the closed door, listening for the sounds of collapse or regurgitation. There was only the sounds of very slow movements, though, and few of those.

A few minutes later James heard the water turn off. He wasn’t sure how clean Niki would be but he supposed it was the best he could do under the circumstances. He heard Niki cross the floor, then silence. He tapped on the door. “My turn.”

A short pause and then Niki emerged from the bathroom, the hotel-supplied towel thick and fluffy around his waist. He walked past James without looking at him, hair sticking up, skin still ashen. He seemed to be in a daze but he had control of his body and sat himself on the edge of the bed. James shrugged and left him to it.

~

The shower was good. The shower was healing. The shower where James could work out the tensions he’d been holding onto since the night before. He bit down on his own arm to keep quiet as he spilled into the water stream trying to think of anything but Niki’s lips on his as he carried himself over the edge. He closed his eyes and imagined the girls from the party all around him, touching him, whispering in his ears. 

When he stepped out of the shower he felt like he’d shaken everything off. James Hunt was back. He shooed a stray thread of song from the back of his mind. _Gonna wash that man right-_

He toweled off slowly and pulled on his clothes, spending more time on his hair than the rest of himself put together. He was sure Niki was alright to find his own way from there and expected he’d already be gone, so he was a bit surprised to find the Austrian pacing slowly around the bedroom. He was dressed in the clothes he’d had on the night before and his hair was no less rumpled. The bed was made and 14 of the 15 pillows were back on the bed. The fifteenth was sitting on the neatly folded towel, waiting for the laundry service.

_So he remembered that too._

“Right,” said James brightly. “Breakfast.” That earned a rather pained expression from Niki. James shook his head, without mercy. “Can’t pass for human in that state. You can even make it boring but you’re having something. Crumpets maybe.”

Niki snorted, apparently at least restored a little by his shower and quiet time. “Still with the crumpets James.” He waggled his finger. “I won’t eat one till you can tell me what they are.” There was a spark of life in the tired blue eyes.

“Can’t put it into words. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Niki cocked his head, eyes suddenly intent on James as if he could see his measure right before him. The expression that passed over Niki's face was almost... resigned by the time it settled. James wasn't sure he was only thinking about food. “Alright,” he said, after a long pause. “I will try these… crumpets.”

“With jam,” James grinned, warming to his subject and relieved things between them could so easily slip back to normal, even from so far beyond that.

Niki’s lip twitched. “Plain is good,” he said. “Plain… crumpets.” His nose wrinkled, clearly unsure that they were good, plain or otherwise.

“S’ok, Niki. I’m pretty sure they have bags for that on the plane.”

“Shut up, Hunt,” Niki snapped, with as much heat as he could muster, and grabbed his jacket from where it lay on the bed, pulling it over his wrinkled shirt.

It was a very slow walk to the dining room but James didn’t mind as he smiled at Niki’s reflection in the elevator wall.

Niki’s reflection met his eyes and he nodded. “Yes, you should look. This is what the world champion looks like.” With each passing minute he started to look closer and closer to a living, breathing human.

James only grinned back. "Breakfast first. Taking over the world, again, can wait till you can tie your shoes without losing your lunch."

Niki thought for a moment. "Maybe next time... orange juice."

"With a little umbrella in?"

"You're an idiot."

The lift door opened.


End file.
